Sanctuary
by eloquent symphony
Summary: Can one person make you feel completely safe from all the world and even yourself? Elizabeth Swann finds her own personal sanctuary when someone realizes he's not ready to say goodbye.
1. Introduction

Sanctuary. It remained a place of freedom, a safe haven where an individual could be hidden from all the world's scruples and derision. A place where one could be free to bear his or her soul, revealing their utmost desires withough facing the criticism of anyone. It was almost a break from reality or an escape to a sort of utopia, even if the outside façade did assume the form of chaotic normalcy. Sanctuary didn't have to be an actual place that granted relief from the harsh face of everyday life; it could be granted through manifestation in a human being. In Elizabeth Swann's case, her sanctuary took such a form, one that held tight to her waist as he shot the ropes connecting the _Hai Peng_ to the _Flying __Dutchman._ The shock of the cool water embracing her flesh brought her back to reality for a moment, but as she felt James' grip around her tighten, Elizabeth's sense of panic quickly transformed into a strange calmness.

"Elizabeth - hold on!" came James' rough voice, marred by the salt water of the ocean. She didn't respond, yet felt herself cry out as James relinquished his hold on her. In a blind panic, she reached out for him, finding only the dark murkiness of their current prison. She couldn't see, she couldn't breathe. All that she knew was that she felt empty - she had lived for a year without him in her life, and now his absence, even whilst he lingered mere inches away from her, wrought a semblance of despair upon the young woman. Elizabeth's fingers continued to grope around in the darkness for her lost companion, her eyelids fluttering open to catch sight of James holding his hand out to her. He seemed to be drifting away, but a stony look of determination was etched in his features. "Elizabeth!" She felt a hand close around her own, and that was when the darkness took her.


	2. Chapter One

When she awoke, Elizabeth was greeted by the kiss of the morning's sun, bathing her face in a fresh light so refreshing in contrast to what she could remember of the night prior. She rolled over on her side, gazing out the window from where the light poured in; the waters were crystal clear and the _Flying Dutchman _was nowhere in sight - the young woman imagined they were leagues away from the aforementioned vessel by now. Even though the scene had undoubtedly changed, Elizabeth's memory instantaneously began to recall the events of the night past. James had ascertained the rescue of herself and her crew from the brig of the _Flying Dutchman_, and their escape had almost been foiled by Bootstrap Bill Turner. Yet it seemed that fate had been on their side that evening, for clearly both parties had escaped unscathed save for a pounding headache and partial memory loss. However, she would not toil over her recollections any longer, for the voice of the illustrious second party jolted her thoughts and her heart, which now seemed as if it would burst out of her chest at any moment.

"Good morning," he spoke. At first, Elizabeth wasn't sure she was prepared to face him just yet. Rather, she wasn't sure if she could confront the awkwardness of a kiss meant to be a parting gesture; she honestly hadn't expected James to yield to her wishes - he was too much of a gentleman bound by the confines of duty to neglect his prior committments. Yet he was also too much of a gentleman to not heed to a lady's urgings, and to herself, this is how Elizabeth justified his actions. Yet she knew that she was no longer a lady by society's standards. If James Norrington truly considered her a lady, it was a title and an image she felt undeserving of in every sense of the word.

"Elizabeth?"

James' voice jerked Elizabeth out of her reverie, her eyes settling back onto reality as she turned on her side and her her hazel orbs discovered the deep contours of James' face. He was standing in the doorway of the captain's quarters, his hand lingering softly on the wood paneling as if it were his hand upon her own.

"Good morning James,"she finally said, a smile spreading from the corners of her mouth. She sat up, clutching the covers over her chest as if she envisioned her flesh was her only clothing; something about James being in her quarters still felt indecent or improper, even given Elizabeth's change in demeanor. Yet the young woman was indeed fully clothed, a pair of worn linen pants and a cloth top having replaced her soaked garments from the night prior. She was content, to say the least, to have shed the aformentioned articles of clothing that had been tainted by the waters of the sea, for she could only imagine how they would have clung to her body like two palms clenched together in prayer. The only problem - Elizabeth had no recollection of changing, and frankly, she found that rather disconcerting. It wasn't that she didn't trust James, but frankly, the thought of any man, including Will, undressing her and then redressing her made the young woman slightly uncomfortable. Trying to dismiss such notions from her mind, Elizabeth stared out the window and lavished in the warm sun that continued to fill the room. Such a wondrous thing, the sun was, able to brighten anyone's day simply by its appearance in the sky. Regrettably, though, the sun's presence was making itself known by illuminating the sheer fabric of her top, although marred by dirt as it was. As she firmly tugged on the sheets, a look, although subtle, of dawning realization and shock spread to her features.

James could sense her trepidation, although in what form her remained ignorant. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she replied, although rather uncertainly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She continued to tug on the sheets as a rosy tinge crept into her cheeks - for having supposedly transformed into a pirate, Elizabeth still retained a sense of propriety, even if it was fleeting.

"Good," James said, a smile of his own creeping onto his face as he took a couple of steps forward into the room. "Your crew is awaiting orders. Apparently they have a newfound respect for you, Captain Swann."

Elizabeth feigned a smile, her expression ending up being more of a grimace as she held tight to the covers and stared down at her hands. "I'm not meant to be a Captain."

James paused for a moment, almost giving off the impression that he agreed. However, with a curt smile and nod, he tossed a sympathetic glance in her direction. "I think you're strong enough to be Captain, Elizabeth, but I would be lying if I said I think you were meant to be one."

James had always possessed an uncanny ability to always say the right thing, or at least something that managed to distract Elizabeth from a subject matter that she found particularly disconcerting, even if only for a second. Ironically enough, the response to her comment hadn't exactly been in complete opposition to her claim, which would have been the naturally welcomed answer; James had neither affirmed nore denied her statement, and Elizabeth wasn't exactly certain which she had expected. Nevertheless, the young woman found herself reminiscent of the past, back when both James and Elizabeth were upstanding citizens of Port Royale and her dreams had extended into a world she couldn't have fathomed. Now that she had set foot into such a place, Elizabeth Swann wasn't sure if she had in fact yearned to become a pirate or she had fallen in love with the ideal of venturing into a realm that reached out past the monotony of her everyday life. James offered another smile, and Elizabeth found her pace quicken. Now that James Norrington was the forbidden one, was she condemned to debate her feelings for him? What _did _she feel for him?

Sighing heavily, Elizabeth nodded, accepting what he had said, but quickly adopting a bitter tone. She was largely upset by her conflicting sentiments and subconciously lashed out at him, trying to hold onto her love for Will. Yet try as she might, she couldn't find it. "How would you know what I was meant to be?" she inquired. "You've been out of my life for a while now, James."

Her comment obviously caught him off guard, for a glimpse of astonishment flashed in his eyes. "That doesn't mean that I don't know you, or at least a part of you," he retorted, partly in his own defense. "And how was I supposed to be a part of your life when you replaced me with Will?" There was a sincerity in his stare, and his words had a perpetual urgency that reflected an extenuated desire to say them. Yet he was not blatantly venemous towards her; there was a bitterness to his words, however, that launched the pair into a battle of their own insecurities.

"We were worlds apart, James," she admitted. "I yearned for freedom, and you wanted..."

"...you," he finished for her. "I wanted you."

Elizabeth inhaled sharply, her quick intake of breath complementing the fast pounding of her heart. "James Norrington!"

"Are we still bound by the unspoken laws of propriety, Elizabeth?" he questioned, taking yet another step towards her. "My affections for you have always been quite clear, and thus I don't think a restatement of such a fact crosses over any boundaries."

"Kissing me crosses a lot of boundaries, James."

A brief silence ensued; James sighed and stared out the window, almost unwilling to look into Elizabeth's eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "I thought that I was saying goodbye."

"Then why did you come with me?" she asked, staring intensely at the side of his face, trying to indirectly persuade him to avert his gaze from the window and instead look at her. "If you chose to say goodbye, then why did you follow me?"

"Because I couldn't lose you. Not again."


	3. Chapter Two

"Because I couldn't lose you. Not again."

His gaze remained directed at the window, yet James' words seemed to reach out to her as if concealing a hidden meaning that he longed to tell her but simply couldn't; they spoke volumes, but even more so, the silence that prolonged afterwards did. Elizabeth wanted to say something, to assure him somehow that he wouldn't lose her, but she couldn't find the words or the heart to speak such a fallacy. She had left him for Will, but she wasn't sure if he had lost her, for that implied having "had" her in the first place - while she admired and respected James, he hadn't captured her heart as a certain other had. Yet now even the latter was questionable and Elizabeth wondered if that would come to pass as well. Nevertheless, the young woman didn't want to make any promises that she couldn't keep. With a heavy-hearted sigh, Elizabeth discarded the covers and slowly rose to her feet. "James..."

Her motion caught James' attention, for he turned his head as she rose and began to approach him. Her bare feet sounded a slight pitter-patter upon the wooden floors, echoing a subtler version of both of their heart rates. "I'll always be here," she said with a smile as she came to stand before him. "Like you said, our paths have always been entwined, and they undoubtedly will continue to be." She laid a hand on his arm for reassurance before grabbing James' overcoat that hung over the chair, wrapping it around herself, and heading up on deck to check on the crew.

--

James was left speechless, standing firmly planted in his place as Elizabeth exited the room to attend to her duties as Captain. Being reunited with Elizabeth was exhilirating, yet simultaneously allowed all the painful memories of his past to be dredged up and act as reminders that his present was hauntingly empty without her. James Norrington's past was an enigma to many and, for the precious few that'd heard the tale, unspoken of. As much as he was a man solely determined on focusing on the future, previous years were embedded in his mind. It was a well known fact that the crew was walking on eggshells around the ex-commodore. Not that it was unwise to do so, but the secretive nature of Elizabeth's crew was maddening. Whenever he passed a group of crew members on deck, a conversation would stop. Whenever he made eye contact with another pirate, he'd innocently look in the other direction. This was a game he was not thrilled to be caught up in. The exasperating nature of these so said pirates was half of his alibi for thinking about the church, the other half being to reminisce.

The Norringtons had raised James to be a man of faith. His father, a legend among the navy, had taught him various lessons involving such matters. Faith in God and justice were two elements that went hand in hand, or so his father had taught him. Without faith in God, there was no justice to be served. Without justice there was mayhem and sin, which God did not forgive one for. Norrington had experienced his fair share of mayhem and sin quite recently, but there was some hope within him thinking that his faith previously as Commodore had earned him some mercy from the man upstairs. No matter, he was ultimately relieved that his father could not learn of what had become of him. He was still convinced he was Commodore and loyally serving his people in Port Royale.

He'd spent a decent amount of his life in Port Royale, so it wasn't the first time he'd visited St. James' church. It'd been years, however, since his last visit. He was surprised at how well he could remember the place. It had been a fine establishment, but slightly worn from the public's ill deeds. The whitewashed walls of the temple thrust powerfully towards the sky and a few of the stain glassed windows were covered with boards due to recent vandalism. But there were changes. Changes only years could leave. The mosaic tile floor was dirty and the mahogany pews were light with age. A dozen less candles propped on the front altar, most likely a result of thievery. Fewer candles succeeded to stay alight and the church was void of worshipers, save Norrington if you could call him such. It was immensely difficult to hand out the title of worshiper to a pirate.

Ironically, with all the vandalism and thievery St. James' had gone through, the pitiful donation box had still been there, holding on for dear life to the altar. After he was satisfied with the observations made of the old chapel, Norrington contributed his payment. Payment that probably would've been spent for a bar tab, but he had the feeling it was more well used here. It landed with a gloomy clink at the bottom of the box, making it easy for anyone to conclude that it had been empty for quite some time. He took a seat on one of the front pews, curiously gazing out one of the windows overlooking the rest of Morant. He wasn't going to waste his time with prayer, today. Something told him it was too late to redeem himself with that nonsense.

That had been a horrible day.

Well, perhaps not that horrible. It had been the day that he had delivered up the heart of Davy Jones to Lord Cutler Beckett, bastard that he was. It had been the day that he had gotten his life back, or at least part of his life; James was convinced that he would never fully recover his life unless Elizabeth was a devoted part of it. With a heavy sigh, he decided to join everyone on deck instead of sulking around by himself thinking about the miserable parts of his past.

Climbing the stairs, James was dismayed to discover that Elizabeth was nowhere in sight. Where had she disappeared to in such a short span of time? Leaning on the rail, he gazed up at the clear blue sky absent-mindedly; at least it was somewhat pleasant here. There was the chattering of some Asian crew mates behind him, but he paid it no attention. They were an annoying lot, Elizabeth's crew. But, they did seem to respect her inasmuch as anyone could have with her having been haphazardly tossed into the position. Shaking his head sadly, James' thoughts drfited back to the church. God was certainly having fun toying with him.

Oh, yes indeed.  
--

Elizabeth was still trying to ascertain the whole schema of the situation. Everything seemed to be happening so fast that every occurrence flourished by as if entrapped in a whirlwind. And unfortunately, Elizabeth seemed to miss every single thing that came and passed her way. In a matter of a day - hell, _less_ than a day, the young pirate lass had assisted in the rescue of Captain Jack Sparrow from Davy Jones' Locker, been mistaken for the sea goddess Calypso, witnessed the death of Pirate Lord Sao Feng, named captain of the _Hai Peng_, realized that her father was dead murdered, and been freed from the clutches of Lord Beckett by someone that she hadn't expected to see. Frankly, it was a bit much for anyone to handle, even for someone as spirited and determined as Elizabeth Swann.

Especially with what had perpetuated between herself and James last night. Elizabeth had, in defense of not only herself but of those like her, criticized James' choice of affiliation, whether he realized that he was picking a side by his actions. Shortly thereafter, he had come to her rescue, springing Elizabeth and her newfound crew from the brig of the _Endeavor_. Looks like he wasn't quite as attached to his position as she had believed. As the crew boarded the _Hai Peng_, James and Elizabeth started to say what they thought would be parting goodbyes. And just when she had thought that telling him this one act would not win him forgiveness would deter him, he _kissed_ her.

The thing was, Elizabeth wasn't exactly sure that she minded.

That's what led to his presence aboard the _Hai Peng_ at the current moment, for she, on a rather impulsive whim, had asked for him to accompany her. It seemed that Elizabeth's head and heart were in constant conflict, or perhaps the young woman simply didn't know what or _who_ she wanted. Maybe she would never know; however, her thoughts were interrupted as she heard shouts arise from her left. Christ, what could they be arguing about now? Ever since she had been named Captain, fights had broken out sporadically. It wasn't that they didn't respect her at all, it was just that a few members of the crew felt that Sao Feng should have entrusted the duty to someone that had been a trustworthy crew member as a prerequisite and thus was assured of their loyalty - essentially, not Elizabeth.

Yet Elizabeth was not about to neglect her bestowed duties just because a sparse handful of individuals, which thankfully seemed to be decreasing, thought poorly of her. Heading up on deck, she braced herself for whatever commotion might be taking place. "What's going on over here?" she shouted over the roar of the sea, her eyes drifting to scan every inch of the ship. And that's when she spotted him, leaning over the railing and gazing at the clouds. How serene he looked; if only she could obtain that seeming semblance of peace. Her light footsteps echoing on the wood as she made her way over to where James was, Elizabeth stood next to him, resting her arms on the smooth surface of the railing.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she inquired simply. She didn't - no, she couldn't - look at him, but instead directed her gaze to the same spot where his currently resided. They had just spoken, but there was a tension between them as if they were lovers separated by the span of decades reunited. Their words were polite, yet their silence was passionate.


End file.
